


Close Quarters / Faith

by Tyler_Blackwing



Series: Merlin: Close Quarters [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is Bad at Feelings, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this mostly on my phone, M/M, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, On a quest, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyler_Blackwing/pseuds/Tyler_Blackwing
Summary: After a tactical retreat from the woods, Arthur and Merlin find a safe spot to rest in a deserted castle.If you can call it rest, when a stubborn manservant's pride has caused him to yell at an insecure royal prat.They should be better at communication by now, but they are driving each other insane.Some things are better left unsaid until one of them is sleeping.Something soft and self-indulgent, a snippet of time in a moonlit night.





	Close Quarters / Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started re-watching Merlin and I still love the series... The dynamics between Arthur and Merlin are just so adorably fun and frustratingly stupid.  
I hope you enjoy this little, self-indulgent piece of fluff. Wrote it on my phone during train rides and waiting times.  
(Set some time around S03 I think.)

Merlin groaned quietly as he pulled his thin blanket tighter. It wasn't too cold in this deserted castle, but it was damp and windy and eerie, and he had to make an effort to not jump at every creaking sound the old floor made when one moved upon it.

Not that those sounds mattered when His Royal Prattiness was snoring away mere inches from him.

Merlin was grateful to have some sort of safety in these walls, really. Arthur had found this place when they'd been fleeing from creatures way too big to fight in a forest upon nightfall, not that they hadn't tried. But after a blow to his arm, Arthur had finally deemed it wise to retreat, and now they were in the castle's tower room, the door sealed and reinforced with a barely whispered enchantment.

This bloody room was tiny.

Some time ago, it might have been a study of some sort, Merlin pondered as he looked around, the crescent moon shedding some light through the dusty windows. There was not enough space for it to have ever contained a bed, with the huge battered desk and a broken chair, and some bookshelves which now held nothing but dust.

Startled by another grunt, he turned and looked at the prince's face, relieved about the lack of pain in the familiar features. He returned to staring at the wall, then he sighed.

They’d had a fight of their own after they had found the castle. Their usual bickering had annoyed Merlin today, the week had been rough and he was feeling anxious about Morgana and her tricks, fearing for the safety of Gaius and his friends. And still, he couldn't dare utter a word of it to his prince.  
Well. Not _his_, per se. _The_ prince. Yeah, that was better.  
Anyway.

Arthur had been making fun of him to ease the tension and the fear that hung between them while they were searching this place for potential enemies, and at some point, Merlin had snapped.

_"You wouldn't be half as great of a crown prince if it weren't for the people around you, supporting you! Stop acting as if everything you do is your merit, you prat - you're nothing but a spoiled child sometimes!"_

He had almost flinched himself when he saw the flash of pain crossing Arthur's face.

_"I'm doing everything I can for my people, Merlin, you know that." _

_"And nobody else is doing anything, yeah I know. I'm just a servant so saving your royal arse accounts for nothing - you’re too preoccupied with yourself to even notice! Well don’t mind me, _Sire_, I’ll go back to being insignificant!"_

Arthur was growing up, he supposed, because he had shut his mouth with an irritated frown instead of insulting him again. His remaining words had been few and strictly professional, setting up the quarters, mumbling something about needing to watch out for each other.

Merlin had, to be honest, softened after realizing that the prince actually thought about his words, but he, unfortunately, was a stubborn git, too. So after a very brief and rather cold goodnight, he had remained silent. But he did know how much Arthur cared. Perhaps more than most. Most of the time, however, he wasn't sure if that idiot actually listened to him.

A startled gasp escaped him when a strong hand shot out from behind him and grabbed his shoulder. Arthur mumbled his name, sleeping, and Merlin knew that he was dreaming. Carefully, he rolled onto his back to look over at the prince, whose forehead had creased as if deeply disappointed. Was his hand shaking?

"Arthur,'' he whispered so carefully that it wouldn't even have stirred a dog's sleep, and Arthur slept like a rock. He placed his hand over the fist clenched in his shirt and gently pried the fingers open.  
The prince's face contorted slightly and he huffed a little, making sounds that might have been words in a different plane of reality. Pressing his hand to his chest, Merlin allowed himself to look at the royal idiot's face with a soft smile. Fingers twitched underneath his own and he hoped that his quickened heartbeat wouldn't alarm the sleeping prince.

"If only you knew," he sighed softly. "I wish I could tell you."

The snoring went on and, reassured, Merlin continued.

"I _have_ helped you, I really have. Saved your life a couple times. You're too reckless, you git." He just couldn't stay angry for long, despite his pride. Now, unseen and unheard, he could tell him. He did not dare to speak his deepest secret, even if Arthur were knocked out completely, that was just too dangerous. But it felt good to let just a few of his thoughts spill over his lips, to keep his heart from bursting.

"... I believe in you, Arthur Pendragon." He spoke so softly it barely counted as a whisper, and he stopped to listen to the prince's breathing, to make sure he wouldn't rouse him from sleep. Just slightly, the crease on his forehead smoothed out, his hand resting under Merlin's.  
"I know you're not half as much of a prat as you seem. I know you'd give everything… _everything_ for your people, even the lowest of them. Even a servant… even _me_." His eyes had gone a bit watery and he blinked. A cloud passed over the moon so the room was even darker than before.

"Merlin." He knew about Arthur talking in his sleep, and he didn't jump any more after the first few times when he'd had to sneak into his chambers after the prince had retired for the night. But this time, he drew a shuddering breath upon hearing his name. Arthur's hand clenched again, gripping at his shirt, and finally, Merlin gave in and turned the rest of the way, facing Arthur with a couple of inches between their faces. His head rested on his own arm, and his hand still held the prince's in place.  
He studied Arthur's face for so long that he got lost in it. He was breathing. It seemed peaceful. Well - he snored, really, and not all too softly, but knowing he was well and alive calmed Merlin to no extent.

"I could not wish for a better king for Camelot."

Arthur seemed to relax. Merlin closed his eyes, determined to fall asleep facing his prince and keeping him close like this. After all, they were alone and it was dark in here.

"I have faith. I just know you'll be everything this country needs. Just wish I could do more to keep you safe."

Growing sleepy, he loosened his grip on Arthur's hand. And when it slipped out of his, he gave a tiny disappointed sigh, hiding his damp cheeks in his shirt sleeve.  
Until a warm hand touched his face.

"... you're doing plenty, you idiot."

Merlin held his breath. He stayed completely still, but the hand did not disappear - it even seemed as if a thumb gently traced his cheekbone, stopping momentarily upon catching a tear.  
It was quiet for a minute, maybe two.  
He hoped Arthur had fallen asleep again and peered over to him, but found the weak glimmer of moonlight reflected in his eyes. Both seemed to open their mouths to say something. Both stopped. Merlin coughed.

"Arthur, I-"

"Shut up."

And for once in his life, Merlin did. Even though a retort was on his lips, but right now, Arthur's hand was, too. And he was getting why: Arthur was rubbish at talking about such things. This was not a speech, nothing to encourage, this was honest and raw and Merlin wondered if the prince might even be afraid of showing so much of himself. So much that he dared not show, dared not be before his father and Camelot.

"I… would not be the man I am without you by my side. I am well aware of that."

Merlin remained silent, but that did not stop his eyes from growing huge.

"...so… thank you."

So sincere. It was almost painful to see Arthur squirming like this, fighting his nature to be serious for once, to be honest. But Merlin's heart leaped at these words, and a soft, mischievous smile pulled at his lips. His voice was teasing and playful, yet thick with emotion.

"_Arthur_."

"Shut UP, Merlin." Obviously uncomfortable, the prince shifted, his hand betrayed him and left Merlin’s lips.

"Sire." He grinned, marveling at Arthur's growing irritation.

"_Please_, for the love of-"

"Your Highness."

Arthur snapped.

"What IS IT, Merlin?"

Merlin grinned brightly, and the moonlight almost showed a pleased, albeit embarrassed expression on the prince's face. Merlin took his hand and pressed his lips against one finger, as if he were kissing a signet ring.

"You're welcome, dollop head."

Arthur's hand grabbed at his face and shoved it gently, the prince mumbling some profanities while Merlin struggled against his grip, giggling lightly.

"I'll never say thank you again, you idiot, be certain of that!"

His hand wandered from Merlin’s face to his hair, and Arthur ruffled it firmly. Curling into himself, he tried to take a protective position, just in case his master felt the need to punch him, or worse, throw something at him. Another shove, and then Merlin was on his other side again, his back turned towards the prince. To his surprise, he found a familiar hand flat on his chest and a forehead pressing to his back.

"Go to sleep, Merlin."

He couldn't help but smile when he put his hand back on Arthur's, lacing their fingers together.

"As you wish, my lord."


End file.
